


The Theory of the universal Anchor

by LadyKarasuNM



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mental Health Issues, Physics, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:08:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKarasuNM/pseuds/LadyKarasuNM
Summary: Siebren's mind is fractured. Scatered throughout the Universe and its vast inmensity. But even the most turbulent od body in space can be dragged to a steady orbit, if only it has an anchor to pull it into its gravity.For Siebren, that anchor might me mismatched eyes and a steady, but sharp, voice.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	The Theory of the universal Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm backkkkk!!!! YASSSSSS!!!!  
> I have been sitting over this one for months now and wow, was it hard not to post it right away!!! This was originaly for a Sigmoira zine. But sadly, due to Covid and life, the zine was called off and we just wept (?) But lucky for you, my piece was already written, with the incommensurable help of my dearest beta Luka, who suffered me through my "But does this look okay to you?????" with the best of moods <3  
> As always, enjoy reading as much as i did writing!

If you asked any physicist about Black Holes, they would tell you they are a region in space where light enters but, instead of being reflected as would happen with any other celestial body, it gets absorbed. They would say Black Holes are an anomaly. A phenomenon so far out of reach from humanity to replicate, to understand, that their only option was to study them from afar. 

Doctor Siebren De Kuiper, astrophysicist, would disagree with the rest of his peers, of course. And if someone knew about Black Holes, it was him. He had been touched by one, after all. 

He had always been a visionary in his field, a figure to revolutionise the concept of astrophysics. He had gone so far as to travel to the moon to experiment on his theories and postulates. 

The problem began when one of his experiments worked. 

Someone would think that when a scientist performs an experiment, they do so in hopes of its success. But in reality, the majority of scientist are just as clueless as anybody else as to what will happen after they start.

It was one of those cases that found the dutch doctor in close quarters with an interstellar anomaly that he, theoretically, shouldn’t have been able to comprehend, much less replicate. He stared at it in wonder, feeling how the phenomenon filled the room with everything and nothing at the same time, a deafening silence falling over everything it engulfed in it’s voracious wake, himself included.

A screeching sound, his voice perhaps, pierced through the unnatural silence that the void brought with it. 

Pain. He was in pain. His being ripped apart at the seams like a rag doll. His flesh was being scorched by a too close star. His body was freezing on the iced carbon dioxide core of a comet. His skin itched from the driest of stormwinds on a gaseous planet, but his lungs were drowning in the depths of an ocean, surrounded by monstrous creatures. His muscles ached from the tension of all the times, planes and _universes_ that were trying to show themselves to him at the same time, claiming him for their own timeline and world. 

His mind was screaming, tossing and turning against all the information flooding his senses like a tidal wave of data in need of processing by his oversaturated brain. 

And suddenly, he heard it. That melody. The song that played through the strings of the universe, binding everything together. Moving in harmony as it should be since the Big Bang. Expanding and contracting, but never breaking. 

At first, it was soothing, finding in the music something familiar and calming. But soon it became a maddening noise at the back of his head, not letting him hear his own thoughts. It was taking the little sanity he had left, bleeding it with each note that resonated in his head. 

His days blurred together. He wasn’t even sure if the concept of time applied to him anymore, his mind probably having escaped the time-continuous. Having resigned to the monotony of everything happening outside of his reach and nothing to him. 

But then, an anomaly came. 

It was a figure, cladded in white and framed in pure red fire. He could only discern it’s blurred silhouette in between a hundred other events that bombarded his mind in need of attention. He had almost overlooked it, had it not been for a rather strange pull of the universal strings in its direction. That creature was meant for a meaningful existence. 

It had been only an instant that he had been able to see it, but it had imprinted into his mind. It wouldn’t be the last time he saw it, and somehow, he knew it. 

It hadn’t been long, in his distorted perception of time, when he saw it again. This time he could understand a whole situation. A padded room, on Earth probably. He had a corporeal vessel there, he wasn’t only present in conscience. Then, a face. Fiery orange hair, short and pristinely combed; two eyes, but not the same ones… Two colours? Blue and red, yes. Acute angles, sharp features. A woman. She wore a lab coat, ah, that explained his original vision. White and red. 

“Dr. De Kuiper?” A female voice rang near him. Hers, probably. “My name is Dr. Moira O’Deorain, and I am here to treat you.” He wanted to acknowledge her, to answer her, but he didn’t know how to operate his body back yet. Before he had the chance of figuring it out, he transcended back to the cosmos. 

With a dulled sense of frustration, he waited until he could see the figure, the doctor, again. Always with the authoritative yet courteous tone of her voice accompaining the Universe’s melody in his head. 

When he felt the pull in this mind once again, he didn’t fight it. Instead he let his thoughts fly freely towards his physical body. A moment of dizziness, his eyes trying to make sense of seeing only one scene at a time since what felt like forever. It was so calming, so normal yet unique for him in his situation. And her, again, calling him with her firm tone and the pull of her energy string, only the insistent melody going over her words. 

“Dr. De Kuiper?” She asked again. 

He tested his mouth opening it one, twice, then he dared to speak. “Yes?” 

She smiled pleased, “Ah, I see you are actually here and talking. Good. My name is-”

“Dr. Moira O’Deorain, yes. I heard it last time.” He interceeded. “Pardon me for not answering, I seem to have problems regaining control of my body.” 

She looked at him almost shocked, though from his answering or from cutting her off mid sentence, he could not tell. But she seemed to accept the apology nonetheless. “Please, call me Moira. Titles are needless among peers.” 

“Are you a physicist too?” 

“Geneticist. Your body was unstable at a cellular level after your accident, so they asked me to help you recompose and come back with us again. I have to admit I am impressed, you are a revolutionary in your field.” Her tone denoting that the admission wasn’t exactly common.

“Thank you for helping me, then, Moira. But I have to say I am no revolutionary, only a grown child with too much knowledge and dangerous equipment.” 

She laughed at this, “ Ah, but aren’t we all?” 

He wanted to answer, to laugh with her, but with that last reply his consciousness faded once more. The sound of her chuckle accompanying him back into the void. 

The next time he went back to his body, it was on his own will. He was experimenting, trying to focus on the sound of her voice, on the image of her mismatched eyes, the bright colour of her hair… He used it as beacon to find her and, therefore, his own body. 

He had startled her, since she clearly hadn’t been expecting him to regain consciousness in that exact moment. He had apologized, of course, but it became almost a habit startling her by making his presence of mind known at the least expected of times. 

As any good scientist, Moira started asking questions about his state of mind, how his current view of the world was, and how much control did he had over his consciousness coming in and out. 

He then told her about how his mind had fragmented and transcended to a cosmic level of understanding. He explained to her the String Theory, how everything in the universe was connected by energy strings that, like a piano, made the universe vibrate, moving to a distinctive melody; how he could now see those strings and hear that melody over and over in his head. One time he felt so bold as to tell her about her own universal string, that the vibration it had showed how she was meant to impact the world’s song. It had been the the first and only time he saw her blush, with such unordinary compliment. 

His stays in his own body were becoming longer and more stable. After a couple months Moira was able to take him for a stroll in the outside gardens of the facility he was being treated at. The first short, more intranscendental conversations with the irish doctor transformed into full nights of technical speeches and masterclasses of their respective fields of expertise. It was thrilling to have someone as brilliant and groundbreaking to talk to. 

He also noticed that, after every encounter with Moira, it wasn’t also easier to find her thread to go to her, but also that it wasn’t only his mind reaching out to her. As a peer, as an equal, as a friend, as a needed fulcrum. It was something closer to his very core, something that resembled, scarily, to his heart. 

But it wasn’t until he went along with it, letting that unique pull of her energy to his own being, to his feelings and desires flow throw him, making him kiss her, that everything became silent for the first time since the accident. Only one thought occupied his mind like a solid anchor in the middle of the vast universe: _Moira._


End file.
